


New Beginnings

by glymr



Category: DCU - Comicverse, Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Bittersweet, M/M, Smut, World's Finest Gift Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-12-11 13:04:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been nearly seventy-five years...a lifetime...since he'd set foot on his adopted planet. </p><p>Now it was time to go back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the World's Finest Gift Exchange, prompt F27, 'reincarnation'. Also: you will see references to Kal's aura-vision, but as noted in the text, in this universe it's something he developed later in life, rather than early as in the comics. I was also inspired by arch_schatten 's lovely story, True Colors, which introduced me to Superman's 'aura-vision'.
> 
> Many, many thanks go to my lovely beta-readers, mithen, fictionalknight, and iesika, all of whom supplied much-needed feedback and hand-holding. Thank you so much, guys. You're the best!

Kal-El lifted off the planet easily, a model of strength and grace. He'd already said his goodbyes, preferring to leave quietly rather than have a fuss made over him by his Kryptonian friends and extended family. He'd made all of the necessary arrangements.

It had been nearly seventy-five years...a lifetime...since he'd set foot on his adopted planet. Now it was time to go back. The pure light of the sun flowed into him as he rose past the atmosphere, the power filling him, strengthening him even more. He smiled a little and started the journey back to Earth.

* * *

The first place he landed was Smallville...which wasn't so small anymore. His own lands were untouched, held for him 'in perpetuity' thanks to some Wayne Enterprises money and magic, but all around them a city had grown up. It reminded him a little of Metropolis, except for the way the buildings shimmered in the late-afternoon sun, revealing the influence of Kryptonian crystal technology tempered by human ingenuity. It looked more like the New Krypton he'd only just left left than the Earth he remembered. Feeling homesick and lonely, he rose into the sky again, headed for Metropolis.

* * *

Metropolis was a half-ruined shambles. Even with all of the fantastic new technology developed in the past hundred years, even with Kryptonians living side by side with humans, there were still things that could not be controlled or contained.

Like its sister city Gotham years before, Metropolis had been rocked by a vicious and unexpected earthquake that had left the city reeling. The crystal-based Kryptonian structures had not been designed to handle a quake of that magnitude, and many had cracked or shattered. Kal shook his head. With all of the advances made in recent years, speed and cost *still* trumped safety and concern for peoples' welfare. Kal sighed and flew on.

* * *

Gotham City was no more immune to the passage of time than the other two cities he'd visited, yet somehow it felt the most familiar. The tall buildings were a mixture of stone and crystal, less beautiful than Metropolis, but far more sturdy. Perhaps there were those who yet remembered Gotham's own earthquake so long ago, or perhaps the city-dwellers found it cheaper to build on top of old structures using new technology. The alleys between the buildings were deep and poorly-lit, and fog was beginning to creep off the bay, shrouding the city as night fell. Kal took a deep breath, smelling again the mixture of sea water and rusting iron, of stone and dirt, and felt, for the first time, like he had come home.

* * *

"Superman?" The young man floating next to him frowned as Kal turned in the air to face him. "You're not Superman. Who are you?" The young man couldn't have been more than eighteen or so. He was dressed in a black and blue costume faintly reminiscent of Nightwing, but, though he wore a mask, no white lenses covered his sparkling blue eyes.

"I used to be Superman," said Kal. "My name is Kal-El." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you. Are you Dick's and Kory's grandson?"

The young man's eyes widened as he shook Kal's hand. "Kal-El? *The* Kal-El? The *first* Superman? Wow...it's an honor to meet you, sir." He shook his hand. "Dick?" The boy thought for a minute. "I guess you mean 'Dick Grayson'? He was my great-grandfather."

Kal blinked. "Oh," he said, gathering his wits. "Of course. Your great-grandmother was Tamaranian?"

The boy nodded. "Great-grandma Kory was Tamaranian, just like my dad is." He flew a quick loop-de-loop in the air and stopped in front of Kal again. "You knew my great-grandpa, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. You remind me of him."

The boy's grin widened. "That's a compliment, right?"

Kal couldn't help smiling back, though his chest hurt at the past tense. He'd stayed away so long...he'd known that time was passing on Earth just as it had on Krypton, yet somehow some unconscious part of him had expected to return to find everything unchanged. "Yes. Do you--"

He stopped as the boy suddenly became alert. "Excuse me," said the boy apologetically, "I should get this." He took off down toward the city. Kal followed him into the mist, watching as he swooped down into a group of...something. The 'people' involved in the fight were a nightmarish mix of human and animal. One man snapped long jaws reminiscent of a crocodile, while another extended his claws and switched the long tail of a tiger.

It didn't take long for the young man to break up the fight. Bright blue beams of light flew from his hands and his eyes, scattering the crowd and dispersing the participants. "You guys never learn, do you?" he called, sounding exasperated. "Keep it off the streets!"

When it was over he flew up to where Kal was watching. "Sorry about that. Can't let them fight it out on the streets...too much risk of collateral damage."

"What...are they?"

He looked surprised. "You don't have splicers on New Krypton?"

Splicers...people who combined their DNA with that of animals. "A few...but the process can cause catastrophic breakdown in Kryptonian DNA, so it's highly illegal. Most people aren't willing to risk it."

The young man snorted. "It's illegal here, too. Doesn't stop them. One of these days I'll catch the one who's supplying them with the serum." He sighed, then smiled. "I never told you my name, did I? Safire, at your service." He bowed with a little flourish that made Kal's chest hurt again.

"Nice to meet you, Safire. So you're Gotham's guardian, then?"

"Oh no, I'm just visiting. Usually I'm over in Bludhaven. Gotham is Batman's turf."

After all these years, how was it that the name 'Batman' still made his heart leap in his chest?

"I'd like to meet him," said Kal casually.

Safire made a face. "He's so dull. Always reading and doing stuff on his computers." He paused. "Batgirl's pretty hot, though."

Kal chuckled. "Does she have red hair?" he asked innocently, remembering Dick's preference for the color.

Safire blushed and muttered, "Shut up."

* * *

Wayne Manor still stood, overlooking the city. There was something comforting about that. Safire glanced around before landing, but the fog lay thick over Gotham now. No one would see them approaching the door.

"Hey, Fred," said Safire as the door swung open. "This is Kal-El. Can we come in?"

The man on the threshold blinked several times, then moved aside. "Please, come in," he said. Kal stepped inside and looked at the other man.

"Kal, this is Fred," said Safire. "I think he's related to you."

Fred smiled. "I'm Tim Wayne's and Kon-El's grandson," he said, holding out his hand.

"That would make me your great-grandfather, then," said Kal, and clasped his hand warmly. "It's wonderful to meet you. I'm sorry I...haven't been here." The middle-aged man looked a lot like Kon, though now that he looked closely, he thought he could see traces of Tim in the man's blue-grey eyes and the arch of his eyebrows. There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and gray at his temples, and Kal wondered what his father...Tim and Kon's son...had looked like, and how much of Kal's powers he'd inherited, if any. What would Luthor say now, if he knew that his experiments had given so many Kryptonian-human couples the chance of children? If he knew that the son he'd created had created his own son by much the same process?

"I'm very glad to meet you at last. May I give Kon a call? I know he would like to see you," Fred said quietly.

Kal hesitated, then nodded. There would be time to get to know his grandson later. "I'd like to see him, too."

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door, which opened before anyone could answer it. "Fred?" came a voice at once both strange and familiar to Kal's ears, "You said there was someone here to see me?"

"In here, Grandpa Kon."

"Not so much with the 'grandpa' stuff--" He stopped in the doorway and stared for a long moment. "Clark?"

He hadn't been called that name in a very long time. It made the hair on the back of Kal's neck stand up to hear it. "Kon," he said with a smile. "It's...been awhile."

Before he had time to regret either the inanity or the understatement, Kon was hugging him. "Clark! I didn't know you were coming!"

Kal relaxed and hugged back. "It was time," he said.

"I'll say!" There was nothing accusing about the words, just positive agreement. "We've missed you."

"I have a lot to catch up on."

"Well," Kon grinned and pulled out a small device from the pocket of his jeans, setting it on the table. "I could show you some family pictures."

* * *

"That was a...hard time," admitted Kon quietly. "Losing our son in that accident only two years after Tim...well...at least Tim didn't have to watch him die. I was always a little grateful for that, and a little jealous, as perverse as it may sound."

"It doesn't sound perverse," said Kal softly, looking across the table at Kon. His son...and after all these years, it seemed no less strange to think of him that way...had gray at his temples, much like Fred. "How long..." asked Kal on impulse, then stopped.

Kon looked at him curiously. "How long will I live?" he guessed. Time had made him more perceptive...and years spent living with Robin, perhaps.

Kal nodded once.

"They don't know, but, based on the rate of degeneration of my cells, they think I should live about twice as long as a normal human. Two lifetimes..." He sighed a little, his eyes distant. "It's not always a gift."

"No," said Kal, thinking of Lois, gone these seventy-five years. Thinking of Bruce, dead just a few years before that. After a moment of reflection he asked, "What about Fred?"

Kon shrugged. "The advantage lessens with each generation. "Fred will probably have something close to a normal lifespan." Which meant that Kon could potentially outlive him, too. "As for powers, he has some...he can't exactly fly so much as he can leap tall buildings with a single bound," Kon smiled, "He has above human strength, but he actually has to work to maintain his body. No heat vision or freezing breath or anything like that, though his hearing is exceptional...for a human."

Kal just shook his head. He heard all of the caveats, yet it still seemed odd...wrong.

A Batman with super powers. What was the world coming to?

* * *

He'd met Safire...Kal realized that he never heard the boy's real name, then wondered if that *was* his real name...and seen Kon, and Kon's grandson. There weren't too many others left who would recognize him as anything other than a historical figure. Oh, there was the Justice League, of course, or whatever they were calling it now. But somehow Kal didn't feel ready to see them yet. Most of them would be strangers to him. According to Kon, Diana had disappeared after the death of Steve Trevor, and no one knew where she had gone. Kal understood that kind of grief, the kind that drove you away from everything familiar, everyone you'd ever known. He would not intrude upon her solitude.

There was one more person he wished to meet.

He landed on the campus in a secluded area and looked around. A man in civilian clothes descending from the sky might not have drawn the attention he once would have, with Kryptonians steadily integrating into Earth culture - and vice versa - but it just would have felt *wrong*.

He stumbled his way through the labyrinthine hallways. It really was a beautiful campus.

Finally he found the office he sought. He knocked and bemusedly read the inscription on the door.

"Come in."

The man behind the desk glanced up from whatever he was working on. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

"You're Professor Wayne? Bruce Wayne, the Third?"

"The same," said the man coolly. "You are?"

"Clark Kent, Daily Planet." Clark held out his hand for the other man to shake.

Professor Wayne didn't take the proffered hand. Instead he looked at it, then looked up at Clark's face. "Don't waste my time with lies," he said.

Clark felt his eyes widen behind the clear lenses, felt an actual blush - God, it had been *years* since he'd blushed - creeping up from beneath his collar. He took off his glasses and his hat and laid them on a corner of the desk, straightened his tie. Held out his hand again. "My name is Kal-El."

This time the Professor took his hand. "Superman," he said, naming him. "It's an honor."

"You're Damian Wayne's grandson?" The man nodded, watching him with dark eyes under winged brows. A strange frisson ran through Kal, though he managed not to shiver. "I know you're a busy man, Professor Wayne. I just...wanted to meet you," he said, feeling awkward. It had been years since he'd felt awkward, too.

The man looked him up and down. "I'm doing some research on Kryptonian linguistics and the changes in speech patterns over the past century," he said abruptly. "Would you be willing to discuss it with me over lunch?"

Kal blinked several times. "I'm hardly an expert on the Kryptonian language," he said. "I was raised by humans, after all."

"I'm aware of that," said the other man impatiently. "That is precisely what would make you an invaluable source for my research. Kryptonian was your second language."

Kal smiled, suddenly shy...and how long had it been since he'd felt *that*?...and said, "Sure."

* * *

They spent the first half of lunch talking about Kryptonian parts of speech and idiomatic expressions that had become second nature to Kal after spending so long on New Krypton. Then, as their main courses arrived, Professor Wayne (or 'Bruce', as he'd asked Kal to call him) said, "You're a vegetarian?"

Kal nodded. "Later in life I developed an ability...one that's uncommon even among Kryptonians. I can see auras around every living thing."

Bruce's eyebrows went up skeptically. "I haven't heard of that before," he said.

"It's true...but as I said, it's extremely uncommon and not well documented." Kal shrugged. As often seemed to happen when he discussed his aura-vision, he found himself slipping into it, allowing himself to become conscious of the auras of the people around him.

It was too much to be aware of all the time, so he tended to screen it out, much as one might stop hearing the hum of a fan in the background. Now that he focused on it, the riot of colors sprang into his consciousness. Their waitress was surrounded by a deep green streaked with blue, only a few tendrils of gray threading the surface. She took their requests for refills with a relaxed smile and returned promptly. Kal wondered what she was worrying about before turning back to Bruce.

And stilling.

And gasping.

"Rao," he whispered. "It's not possible."

Bruce stared at him. "What's wrong?" he asked sharply.

"Your aura-" Kal started, then swallowed. "It can't be. It can't be."

Bruce frowned. "What are you talking about? What do you see?"

Tears came to Kal's eyes. He reached across the table, laying a hand on the other man's, their auras touching and blending for a moment.

"Bruce?" whispered Kal.

The other man's eyes widened, and he shivered. "What is it?" he said hoarsely.

"You...It's you. It's you."

Bruce cleared his throat and drew his hand away. "I don't understand," he said firmly, but Kal could see the pale yellow uncertainty flickering around him.

Kal blinked and forced himself to look down, away from the other man.

"Your aura," he said. "It's Bruce's." He took a breath and released it, trying to slow his pounding heart. "Batman's."

He could feel the other man blinking at him. "Bruce Wayne...the First? My aura looks like his? Surely that's not a cause for such surprise. I am his descendant, after all."

"No," said Kal. He drew a hand over his face, still not able to look at the man sitting across from him. "Auras...each aura is unique. The edges, the 'surface' of the aura reflects a person's emotional state at the moment. It's constantly shifting, different colors running through it as a being's thoughts and emotions change. Beneath the surface, however, there is a deeper layer, a...a pattern, though that word really is insufficient to describe it. It's as complex and deep and varied as...as a fractal or a snowflake...and as unique. That part of the aura, the fundamental self, doesn't change. And every person's...every being's...is different. Even animals too simple or primitive to have thoughts or feelings have unique aura signatures."

Bruce was quiet for a long moment. "So what you're saying is, my aura resembles my ancestor's."

"It doesn't just resemble it, Bruce." Kal finally looked up, meeting and holding Bruce's gaze. "It's identical. It would be like..." he cast about desperately for a suitable analogy, "If you discovered that your fingerprints matched his exactly. It's impossible."

Bruce took a long, deliberate drink of his coffee, then put his cup down and said gently, "The first Bruce Wayne died over seventy-five years ago. That's a long time..."

Kal smiled bitterly, quick to catch the implication. "You think my memory is playing tricks on me." He shook his head. "I have an eidetic memory, Bruce. I couldn't forget what Batman's aura looked like any more than I could forget my own name...any of them."

"Perhaps there are subtle differences that you haven't--"

"No." Kal's voice was flat.

Bruce's jaw tightened. "Do I *look* like my ancestor?"

Kal let his eyes sweep over the man. "You resemble him, just as any descendant can resemble his ancestor. His eyes were blue, not brown, his jaw wider than yours. He was slightly taller than you and broader in the chest. His ears were different. But you have his eyebrows, and your hair is the same color and looks similar in texture. He was paler than you, but that was probably as much a function of how little sun he got as anything inherent in his biology."

"So you're satisfied that I'm not a clone and that I'm not my own ancestor."

"Yes," said Kal. "Even clones have different aura signatures than their originals. Besides--" he squinted for a moment "--your bone structure is different from his."

"All right, then. So what you're telling me is that my 'aura' looks exactly like my ancestor's 'aura'. The only person who can see this so-called aura is you, and even you admit that this ability of yours hasn't been scientifically verified -- Why are you smiling?"

"Because...you sounded just like him for a moment there."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I think," he said deliberately, "That you're hearing what you *want* to hear."

"And seeing what I want to see?"

The other man looked at him sharply. "That, too."

Kal shrugged. The colors of Bruce's aura were vivid - the deep indigo threaded with purple and lighter shades of blue, overlain by a layer of deep orange skepticism and a fainter pink curiosity. "Maybe you're right," he said.

Bruce's eyes narrowed, chartreuse irritation curling through the other colors. "You're humoring me."

Kal held up his hands. "What do you want me to say, Bruce?"

"All right." The professor folded his arms and lifted his chin. "What do you see?"

"What?"

"What kind of person am I? What does my aura tell you?"

"Besides the fact that you're skeptical and irritated, and also...hopeful?" Kal frowned, that thread of lavender hope hadn't been there a moment ago.

"I meant, beyond the surface."

Kal met his eyes for a long moment. "Are you sure?"

A beat. Uncertainty flickering at the edges again, fading into resolve. "Yes."

Kal took a breath and focused on the pattern of Bruce's aura, letting himself be drawn into the complexities, spiraling inward, deeper. "You're a man of great determination," he began. "A brilliant man."

"You could have gotten that from many different sources," Bruce interrupted him.

"Do you want me to do this or not?" The other man nodded. "Then let me concentrate." He looked again, feeling himself being pulled back in. "You...You're driven. Deeply private. Impatient. Some would think you cold, but you're passionate about the things you love. You're dedicated to...to something. A man with...a man with a *Mission*..."

A gasp yanked Kal back into himself, and he blinked, feeling his heart pounding again. Bruce was staring at him. The man actually looked a little pale. "How did you--" He stopped and shook his head, then took out his wallet, abstracted a card, and pulled a pencil from his shirt pocket to jot something down. "One of my colleagues," he said, handing over the card when he'd finished. Color was starting to return to his face. "I think she would be interested in this ability of yours, if you ever wanted to document it better."

Kal smiled and took the card and studied the name and contact information on it before tucking it away in his pocket.

Since the woman worked on campus, it might give him an excuse to see Bruce again.

* * *

There was light coming from under the door. Kal tapped on it and waited for the gruff, "Come in."

Bruce was sitting at his desk, circles under his eyes. Kal felt his aura-vision fading in; after a few days of testing, it was hard not to use it. Gray weariness hung over Bruce like a cloud, dimming the other colors.

"Kal," said the professor, giving him a nod.

"Professor Wayne," began Kal, then, noticing the spike of chartreuse, corrected himself. "I mean, Bruce."

"What can I do for you?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to see the results of Doctor Garner's tests," said Kal, "but you look done up. Why don't you let me buy you dinner? I owe you for lunch the other day."

Suspicion...an entirely different shade of orange from skepticism...briefly danced around Bruce, but it was quickly swallowed by the gray exhaustion. "All right," he said finally. "Let me just wash my face and I'll be right with you." He tapped a couple of keys to shut down whatever he'd been working on and left the room.

Kal's eyes followed him to the door.

He didn't want to tune out Bruce's aura, he realized. After so many years, he'd thought he would never see it again.

* * *

Good food and a glass of wine were doing what they should, and the was tension gradually draining from Bruce's shoulders and the harsh gray of exhaustion tempered to a softer one signifying deep, relaxed contentment.

He perused the results of the double-blind tests with interest, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he turned the pages, his dessert sitting forgotten on the table before him. When he reached the end of the document, he sat for several minutes, staring into space. Kal waited until he couldn't stand it any more, then reached across the table and swiped some of the melting ice cream, licking it off his finger.

Bruce glanced up with a perfunctory, "Hey!" Startlement washed around him in sharp little sparkles, then his eyes widened slightly, his pulse jumped and his aura flushed a deep red for a long moment, though the man himself managed to maintain his composure.

Kal looked at him thoughtfully and pulled his finger out of his mouth with a 'pop'. "So what did you think?" he asked.

"About what?" asked Bruce irritably, picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

"About the results," said Kal, jerking his chin at the folder still in Bruce's hand.

"Oh." He took another sip. "Fascinating. Either you're for real, or a very good charlatan."

It was Kal's turn to say, "Hey!" before he noticed the silver glitters of internal laughter. In revenge he swiped another bit of Bruce's desert and licked it off his fingers. Slowly.

Bruce watched him out of the corner of his eye. "You can have the rest if you want," he said.

* * *

Bruce switched on the light in his office. "When you left them behind the other day I put them...yes, here they are. You know, nobody wears these anymore," he said as he handed the glasses to Kal, who tucked them in his pocket.

"I know," said Kal sheepishly. "They're just...sentimental, I guess."

"Well, thank you for a pleasant dinner, Kal," said Bruce as he switched off the light. His aura glowed in the darkness, outlining him. He brushed past Kal, who found himself reaching out, catching the other man's arm. "What is it?"

"I..."

"...Kal?"

"Bruce," he said softly, and Bruce stilled.

"Kal," he began, and Kal could see him steeling himself, see the armor going up.

Before Bruce could speak, Kal pulled him in, bringing their lips together, and watched the fireworks as Bruce's aura flared to life in a spectrum of colors: the dark reds of lust, marigold uncertainty, fear the color of dried blood. And a deep sorrow threading through it, blackening it and reminding him deeply of the Bruce he'd known so long ago...

"What's wrong?" asked Kal softly against his lips.

"I'm not...the man you knew, Kal."

That gave Kal pause. "I know," he said finally.

"There are things...I have responsibilities..."

"I know," said Kal again. "But tonight..."

Bruce drew in a long breath and released it again, calming himself. "Tonight," he said softly, "I am free. But it's all I have, Kal."

Kal didn't question his words. This Bruce was just as driven as the Bruce he'd known; Kal just didn't know by *what*.

"All right," he said softly, and drew Bruce close again. Surprise and lust sparked once more. The edges of their auras swirled together wherever they touched.

"I barely know you," muttered Bruce. "This is crazy."

"It doesn't matter," said Kal. "I know you. We don't have to wait anymore."

"I...Were you and Batman in a relationship?"

"No," the word came out softly and hung in the air between them. "I was married and he was..." his lips curved in an unwilling smile, "I guess you could say that he was married to his work."

Bruce snorted. "I have no idea what that's like," he said dryly.

Kal caught his stubborn mouth in a soft kiss, reveling in the feel of it opening and yielding to him. This Bruce was not so obsessive as his predecessor had been about building his strength, but he was nevertheless fit and strong. Kal drew a hand along his torso beneath his shirt and smiled.

"You have a beautiful body, Bruce," he whispered. A quick blush of embarrassment washed through the other man's aura.

"I have to stay in shape," he said gruffly. "It's important to maintain a balance in the body for the sake of the mind. Especially for..." he stopped.

"Especially for?"

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said.

Kal didn't push him to say more. Instead he undid Bruce's shirt and mouthed at his collarbone, tracing the sharp, smooth edge with his tongue.

"Kal," gasped the other man. "I--" He shivered as Kal nipped at his shoulder, his neck, the edge of his ear. "Kal--" He reached up, tracing his hands over Kal's body, smoothing his hands over hard skin and cupping the muscles beneath. "I can't stop," he whispered, and Kal saw shards of yellow fear splintering around them. "I should stop this, and I can't."

"Don't try," said Kal. "It's all right." He gently pushed him down to the carpet and kissed him again and again, until the fear was overwhelmed by red-violet desire. "It's all right," he said again between one kiss and the next. Bruce arched against him, his whole body trembling, and Kal had a moment to think, as he undid Bruce's pants and slid them off and away, that this, at least, was one thing that didn't change. This act, this desire, as old as time. As old as life itself.

Then he leaned down and wrapped his lips around Bruce's cock, letting the noise Bruce made wash over him like a wave. Bruce... Kal pushed forward inexorably, swallowing around him, feeling him jerk in his grasp.

"For god's sake." Bruce's hands tangled in Kal's hair, his hips thrusting in sharp but irregular movements. "Superman. Clark." Heat seared through Kal at the sound of his name, the name which was, in so many ways, his true name. He made a sound deep in his throat, and Bruce grunted and arched and came hard, spilling down his throat as his aura exploded in a riot of conflicting colors.

Kal kept licking and mouthing him gently until hints of pain began to show up, at which point he pulled back just far enough to lay a gentle kiss on the tip. Bruce shuddered and Kal sat up and smiled down at him and waited for him to open his eyes.

Deep blue-green contentment wavered, warring with desire, confusion, and...something else. Something Kal couldn't quite decipher. "You," said Bruce. He reached out to touch Kal again, sliding his hands down Kal's chest, his sides. Slowly, he unfastened Kal's pants. "You," he said again, wrapping his hands around Kal's erect cock.

"Me?" said Kal breathlessly.

"You were...I studied you," admitted Bruce as he began to stroke.. "As a child, I...I found every scrap of footage I could, but it wasn't enough. I researched you, made connections...eventually I figured out that Clark Kent, Superman, and Kal-El were one and the same. I kept...I kept looking for you. Kal. Clark.

"I never dreamed you would actually come back to Earth. I never dreamed you would...come to me." Clark stared up at him, wide-eyed. "I...Kal, I..." He gripped hard, pulling and stroking. Sensation was overwhelming Kal, but he couldn't stop listening to Bruce's words, couldn't close his eyes.

Bruce's hard hands around him, pulling him out of himself. "Bruce," he whispered, spilling out with a hot splash and sudden recognition. He knew exactly what that color in Bruce's aura had signified, that particular shade of blue, deep and wide as the sky.

Wonder.

* * *

The office was dark. The two curled against each other for a long time, human and Kryptonian, quiet and content in each other's arms. It was nearly an hour before either spoke.

"I'm going on the Aeneid," said Bruce, breaking the silence at last.

Kal stirred slightly. The Aeneid Project, the first large-scale effort to colonize another planet. "Your Mission," he said softly.

"Yes," said Bruce. "They need me." He sighed and shifted a little. "I'm a polymath. I have seven degrees in various disciplines, and the equivalent of several more. Until we can get power working in our new home, I...people like me...we will be human computers, repositories of knowledge. Guardians..." He propped his head up on one hand in the dimness and laid a hand on Kal's chest. "Our Earth is so fragile," he said softly.

"You're more than a participant in the Project, aren't you?" said Kal, catching Bruce's hand in both of his own. "You're one of the driving forces behind it."

Quick startlement and an indrawn breath. "Yes," said Bruce. "Since I was a child, I've felt it keenly. So much could be lost so easily. We needed a...a backup."

Kal did not speak for a time. Finally he said, "I'll come with you."

"You can't," said Bruce quickly.

"I have a lot to offer," began Kal, but Bruce interrupted him.

"It's not that," he said, then stopped.

Kal waited patiently.

Bruce sighed. "It's not common knowledge, yet. I shouldn't be telling you this." He closed his eyes. "The planet we're colonizing has a red sun."

"Oh," said Kal. "I see." He shook his head a little, trying to clear it. "Why?"

"Planets that can sustain human life are far less common than was once believed," said Bruce slowly. "This is the first we've found that has been both suitable, and uninhabited."

Kal nodded thoughtfully. "I'll come with you," he said again.

Bruce frowned. "You can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you not hear me the first time? The planet has a *red sun*."

"I heard you."

Bruce sat up, frustration and fear spiking through his aura. "You'd have to eat there. You'd have to breathe. You wouldn't be invulnerable. And...you'd grow old. You'd *die*."

"Yes," said Kal softly. "Eventually."

"You'd be committing *suicide* by going!"

Kal stared up at the ceiling unseeingly. "I've thought about it," he said softly.

"What?"

"Suicide."

"What?" Alarm ripped through Bruce's colors, his heartbeat jumping.

"Bruce," he said softly. "I've lived two lifetimes already. I can't..."

"Can't *what*?"

"I can't keep watching the people I love die." He sat up a little, leaning on his arms. "The longer I've lived, the more...disconnected I've become. After Lois died, I couldn't...I went to New Krypton, almost exiled myself there, and started a new life. I made friends, found family, even had occasional lovers, and yet...I spent most of my days alone."

"What did you do, there?" Curiosity crept into Bruce's tone and aura, tempering the annoyance and terror that still shimmered there.

"Wrote, mostly. Wrote about what it was like to live and love as a human." He shifted, looking up at Bruce. "I found you again. I'm not letting you go," he said simply. "I want to live with you. I want to grow old with you."

"I'm not...I'm *not* the man you loved, Clark. You're talking about throwing away immortality for someone you've only just met!"

"I love you."

"You don't even know me!"

"I love you."

"You can't!"

"I love you."

"Stop it!"

Clark gripped his shoulders and kissed him, feeling the answering fire against his lips, all the passion and desire and fervent *need* of the man. "Please," said Clark against his lips. "Let me have this. Let me have this life. Let me have...you. Please."

"I--" There were tears in his aura, pearl-gray and gleaming, if not in his eyes. "I dreamed about you last night."

"What did you dream?"

The words were a whisper, soft against his ear. "I was in a dark cave. I was alone and it was...cold. So cold. And then I looked up, and you were there, shining. It was as though you'd brought the sun in with you..." He closed his eyes. "Don't ask this of me, Kal. I can't be the one to sentence you."

"Don't deny me this. Please, Bruce." He kissed Bruce's neck just below his ear. "I'm not afraid to die. *You* came back, didn't you?"

"You'll be *vulnerable*, Clark. You could die the day after we get there!"

"I could die tomorrow here, too. I could take a kryptonite bullet to the brain. I could get some red sun lamps and--"

"STOP!"

"I'm coming with you." It was his 'Superman Voice', firm and certain.

"It's a one-way trip. The crystals we're using to power the engine will burn out over such a vast distance."

"I understand."

"You've only just returned to Earth, Kal."

"I lived a lifetime on Earth as a Kryptonian trying to be a human," said Kal, "And a lifetime on New Krypton as Kryptonian trying not to be a human. I'd like, very much, to spend a lifetime on New Earth *as* a human. Especially if it means that I can be with you. This is what I want, Bruce. I want you to read my words. I want what I've written to become a part of that vast library you keep in your head. I want to be...I want to be part of humanity's legacy."

Bruce shuddered, and Kal could see him wavering, caught. "I want to...I want to *know* you, Kal. But how can I doom you?"

Kal caught his hand, twining their fingers together. "You won't be," he said with certainty. "You'll be saving me."

* * *

It had taken a lot to convince Bruce...including threatening to stow away on one of the supply shipments that were to follow the colony ship over the next year...but eventually Kal had gotten what he wanted. He looked back one last time as he prepared to step aboard the giant craft, smiling at the family and friends who had come to see him off. He'd said his goodbyes over the past several weeks, but they'd insisted on coming, on seeing him one last time. Kon caught his eye and jerked his chin up with a grin, for a moment reminding Kal of the brash young man he'd been so many years ago. Words from their last conversation echoed in Kal's ears.

"Relax, Clark," said Kon, laughing. "If anyone understands the importance of following your heart, it's me." He grasped his father's arm. "You're making the right choice."

Next to Kon stood Wonder Girl...except that she was Wonder Woman now, of course. Cassie shook her still-blonde hair back from her face and slipped her hand into Kon's, lifting her other arm in a farewell wave.

"I asked her to marry me," Kon told Clark.

"So she's finally forgiven you for choosing Tim?" He'd meant it teasingly, but Kon's answering smile was sad.

"And forgiven Tim for choosing me, I think," he replied. "It's been a long time since Tim died," he went on in his gentle way. "And since Cassie's lover...left. Both of us are finally ready to make a new start at the same time. Just like you are...Dad."

Tears came to Kal's eyes at the memory, and he lifted his gaze, taking in the sight for the last time. Yellow sunlight poured down from the sky, bathing the land in its beautiful light and highlighting the green of the Earth and the blue of the distant ocean. He let his aura vision fade into existence, seeing happiness and contentment, sorrow and affection, excitement and wistful regret.

Then he turned and looked into the dark eyes of his lover, seeing, for a brief moment, a flash of unadulterated joy and love shine around him as their eyes met. Soon he would lose the ability to read his lover's emotions. He would never see Bruce's aura again. He would never fly again, never lift boulders or melt glaciers or freeze oceans or see through walls. No longer would he hear the sparrow fall.

Gazing into Bruce's eyes, he knew that it was worth it.

Together, they stepped onto the ship, the door sliding into place behind them. The crystals began to hum as they built up energy. Just before the ship lifted and soared, Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce and brought their lips together warmly, feeling Bruce's mouth curve against his own.

"...and they lived happily ever after," whispered Bruce.

"Is that how it ends?" asked Clark.

"No," said Bruce softly as the ship began to flicker out of existence in that part of the universe on its way to another. "That's how it begins."


End file.
